


Something Magical

by loserwithapencil



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Ernst Is So Cute, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, bobby maler hes the worst, hernst, i love ernst, i love the headcanon that hanschen covers his mouth when he laughs ???, looks so nasty in those khakis, theyre at a party, this was really just a self indulgent thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 15:37:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10722225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loserwithapencil/pseuds/loserwithapencil
Summary: Hanschen almost always made the first move. He waited for the correct moment to flirt and went for it, turning on the charm and letting the system work for him. Ernst was different. Hanschen couldn't just turn it on around him. Ernst was simple, yet complex, he was innocent, but not unaware. Ernst was cute one second and insanely sexy the next.Hanschen couldn't pin down the right way to approach him until he found out that Ernst was a romantic.AKA: Bobby Maler flirts with Ernst at a party and Hanschen won't wait for something magical anymore. He has to charm Ernst nOw.





	Something Magical

Hanschen had liked Ernst since he was thirteen.

It wasn't that Ernst was completely oblivious or that Hanschen’s flirting wasn't top notch, which in his opinion it was, but more that neither of them were making a move to actually ask each other out. 

Hanschen almost always made the first move. He waited for the correct moment to flirt and went for it, turning on the charm and letting the system work for him. Ernst was different. Hanschen couldn't just turn it on around him. Ernst was simple, yet complex, he was innocent, but not unaware. Ernst was cute one second and insanely sexy the next. 

Hanschen couldn't pin down the right way to approach him until he found out that Ernst was a romantic. Not just a, ‘I love a guy who give me flowers and sets up cute dates and-’, but a dozen roses, kissing in the rain, fate-believing type romantic. Hanschen was not. He appreciated those things of course, but he just didn't understand how Ernst thought those things were possible. How likely is it that it would randomly start raining in the seconds before a kiss? How likely is it that one guy would forget his jacket and another guy would have to lend it? How likely was it for a princess to leave behind a shoe that would only fit her?

Then came a party.

It all starts in Melchior’s kitchen where a group of teenagers began talking. 

*****

“Ernst always ends up being flirted with by every guy at these things.” Moritz rolled his eyes.

Wendla smiled at him, flicking a straw around the inside of her cup. “It’s the whole sweet and innocent thing. Guys look at him and think one of two things. ‘Wow he’s so cute’, or-”

“Or ‘I could change that innocence’.” Melchior added, wiggling his eyebrows and laughing.

“Exactly.” Moritz sighed, smiling despite his clear annoyance. Hanschen looked to the ground and made the decision on the spot. Seduce Ernst. The group continued talking about the way certain people acted at parties, but Hanschen removed himself from the scene without a trace. If other guys were going to try getting Ernst before he could, he would have to work fast. The first step in his unbelievably Hanschen-esque plan was to start talking to Ernst before anyone else. This way nobody else would approach him. Then he could work his blonde haired, blue eyed charm on the boy himself. 

Ernst was leaning on the staircase by a group of (extremely) drunk girls. His elbows were behind him, propped on the railing and he had a red cup in one hand, no doubt filled with a very little amount of alcohol and a lot of lemonade. Hanschen took a moment to admire the curve of his back and the way his almost-black hair rippled to the side. His wine colored, short sleeve button up falling over a pair of black jeans. A pair of very tight black jeans.

Dear god.

“Hey Ernst.” The boy perked up immediately.

“Oh, hey Hanschen! What’s up?” Ernst tipped his head to the side and smiled, practically crushing Hanschen’s lungs. 

“Well, nothing really. I needed some more stimulating conversation and you're the least drunk one of my friends. What’s up with you.” He let out a small laugh.

“Besides that creep on the other side of the room staring at me all night? Nothing much.” The blonde teen turned his head to the side and caught eye of a very obnoxious boy practically drooling at Ernst. The guy was pretty attractive and Hanschen would have been jealous if it were anyone else. He looked the boy up and down and saw them.

Those damn khakis.

Bobby Maler was not someone to be jealous of. People went home with Bobby all the time as long as they were desperate, just out of a bad breakup, or completely wasted. Ernst was none of the three.

“Bobby Maler.” Hanschen growled.

“I swear he's been on the verge of attacking me for the last hour.”

“An hour already? He’s lasted longer than usual.” They laughed.

“Maybe that shirt’s so tight that it’s cutting off circulation to his brain.” Ernst rolled his eyes and smiled, making Hanschen feel like melting. 

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment before Bobby made the grossest, most obscene gesture to Ernst. It was the biggest dick move Hanschen had ever seen in his life. Hanschen whipped his head around to gauge Ernst’s reaction and watched as his eyes widened. Ernst shook his head and turned away, taking a sip of his drink. 

This kid wouldn't quit though.

“He’s coming over here.” Hanschen sighed. 

“He's making me uncomfortable. Just play along okay?” Ernst ran a hand through his hair.

“Play along?”

“Hey Ernst. What’s new?” Bobby smiled.

“Could you just stop? Please. I'm not going home with you Bobby.” 

He laughed out a response, “You’re hot. You're at a party. You're single. You know you want to. If you're gonna go home with anyone, it should be me.” He bit his lip and Hanschen nearly laughed at him. He was making a fool of himself. 

“I'm actually not single. And my boyfriend has been watching you do this all night.” Hanschen looked at Ernst in confusion and it all clicked. He grabbed Ernst’s hand.

“Hanschen? Really? C’mon Ernst, you can do so much better.” Hanschen felt a little stab at that one. He could do better couldn't he?

“No. No, I can't. Hanschen is a gentleman. You're a,” Ernst smirked, “You're a dick.” 

Hanschen grinned. 

Ernst almost never swore. He almost never insulted anyone. 

And he was trashing Bobby Maler right there.

Hanschen thought he couldn't like him more.

“Fuck off Bobby.” Hanschen smirked and squeezed Ernst’s hand. And they watched as the boy in the too-tight outfit trudged off, an hour wasted. Hanschen nearly fainted when Ernst didn't let go of his hand. 

“Do you wanna go on a walk? I think I need some air.” Hanschen nodded and felt himself being pulled through a crowd of grinding teens and a very annoyed Bobby Maler. Cold air flowed around his body in a quick moment, flooding the inside of his leather jacket. 

“Thank you.” Ernst shook his head. “Every time I come to these parties something like that happens.” 

“No problem. Bobby Maler can be a real dick sometimes.”

“All the time.” Hanschen laughed. Now was as good a time as any to turn on the charm.

“Besides, I liked holding your hand for the last few minutes.” Ernst flung to the other side of the sidewalk, blushing madly. The boy was quickly a stuttering mess. Hanschen’s hand lost (and missed) its previous sense of warmth.

“Sorry! I forgot I was still, uh, sorry.” Ernst gulped and Hanschen smiled fondly. 

Magical things don't happen in real life. Hanschen knew this. He knew that, to get Ernst, he needed to make things happen himself. He had never prepared himself for something magical to ever happen.

And then it started to snow.

White flakes drifted down and coated the top of Ernst’s hair and speckled his dark outfit. 

“It’s snowing.” Hanschen laughed. A small, discreet little breath. A barely noticeable smile. 

“Yeah. Yeah it is.” Ernst stared up in disbelief, shaking his head despite his previous embarrassment.

“This is ridiculous. Unbelievably, completely ridiculous.” Hanschen covered his mouth and laughed. 

“What’s ridiculous about snow?” Ernst shook his head and smiled lightly. Happily.

“Just, I've been here for three years trying to get you to notice me. Getting over you, realizing I’m not over you, stuck in this endless loop. I've told myself three hundred times that I'm not your type and waited a million moments for something this magical. And here it is.” The blue eyed boy raised his palms to the sky, as if expecting something to fall or some god to tell him why he got this miracle. 

“You? Like me?” Ernst blushed, telling himself it was just the cold getting to him.

“Yeah. Yeah I do.” Hanschen laughed again. “This is absolutely not real. It’s snowing and I'm confessing my feelings for you outside of a sweaty, hot house party and I’m now taking off my jacket to offer it to you instead.” He didn't pause for a moment as he slipped the black leather off his shoulders and laid it over Ernst’s. “And you’re going to insist you don't need it and I’m going to tell you I don't mind. And I’ll really mean it.” 

“Hanschen-”

“Shh.” Hanschen froze and held his finger up. “I want to remember this. This stupid, moment. I knew I was good at flirting, but really? Apparently I can also manipulate the weather, Ernst.” Hanschen leaned forward and grabbed his hands.

“I'm a sucker for romantics. And you’re sweet when nobody else is around.”

“Right?” Hanschen’s disbelieving look was imprinted on his face from having held it so long. He broke it when he smiled at Ernst. The two stood there for a moment, toe to toe, holding each other’s hands, snow drifting around them slowly. 

Hanschen felt Ernst lean forward and peck his lips quickly. 

“Oh god! I’m sorry!” Ernst’s slightly feminine voice rang out and he took back one of his hands to touch his own face. 

This boy was going to be the death of him.

Hanschen smirked and pulled Ernst by the hand he was still holding, kissing him deeply. His free hand rested on the curve of Ernst’s back that he had previously admired and Ernst’s hand that previously held a red cup of barely-alcohol now threaded through his own hair. Their held hands fell limply at their sides before Hanschen let go and set his other hand at the curve of Ernst’s waist. Ernst cupped Hanschen’s cheek gently.

Magic things weren't supposed to happen.  
At least not to Hanschen Rilow.  
11:11 wishes, shooting stars, and scrapped birthday candles made no difference in his life.  
But, in this one moment, maybe something magical was meant to happen to him.  
Just this once.


End file.
